


I hate you

by Argentumm



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Bucky Barnes & Sam Wilson Friendship, Bucky Barnes Has Issues, Bucky's working on himself, Gen, POV Sam Wilson, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Sam Wilson is a Gift, Sam Wilson likes to annoy Bucky, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson Friendship, not really a friendship yet, while still being a little shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-22
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2019-05-10 04:31:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14729987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Argentumm/pseuds/Argentumm
Summary: Sam Wilson is a pretty easy going guy, but he can't seem to let the fact that Bucky Barnes nearly killed him slide. There's also the fact that Barnes destroyed his car.This is just a fic about a couple of conversations they have.





	1. A shitty apology

Bucky Barnes was a solid guy; tall and imposing, even without the arm. Sam knew what he was capable of, he'd seen and experienced how deadly the ex-Hydra assassin could be, ripping the Falcon wing off in DC as if Sam were just an irritating fly who was getting in the way.

So Sam was skeptical when Barnes stood before him now, managing to look both uncomfortable and annoyed at the same time.

"I'm sorry for trying to kill you," he stated in an almost bored manner, shrugging both his shoulders slightly, leaning back against the bench in the jet.

Sam only raised an eyebrow at him, trying to hide his disbelieving expression.

Barnes looked like shit. The lower half of his face was smeared with dried blood which was slowly turning a sickly brown colour, and while it looked like he'd tried to wipe it off, Sam could tell he hadn't really cared if he'd been effective or not. The guy had probably been covered in so much blood since the 40s, that it must've felt like a second skin to him now. The thought made Sam even more uncomfortable than he already was.

"Uh huh," was all Sam managed, not hiding his skepticism.

Barnes sighed, his lips pressing in a firm line while his eyes scanned the jet. Steve was piloting up front with Clint next to him, Wanda was standing off to the side with her arms wrapped firmly around herself. Sam had tried to talk to her earlier as they flew away from The Raft, but it was clear she wanted her space. He’d simply told her that if there was anything she needed to just let him know, and she’d smiled wryly at him with red-rimmed eyes and told him that she would be fine.

Scott was asleep somewhere in the back, so Sam had no-one to share this awkward moment with.

“I’m guessing Steve told you to apologise to me?” Sam finally answered, mirroring Barnes’s pose across the jet. They had a cargo load between them, so Sam felt a little braver, not just from the ex-assassin, but also from the situation. He was sure that Steve could hear them, the guy had crazy good hearing, and he was also sure that if he said something too mean, he’d earn one of Roger’s famous disappointed looks.

Barnes shook his head, his dark, blood-matted hair shaking slightly with the movement. The guy really needed a shower. And for someone to look at that arm, Sam swore he saw it sparking earlier.

“Nah, he didn’t”, Barnes’s answered with another look in Roger’s direction, “just thought I should say it.” He went to cross his arms, but remembered that he couldn’t do that anymore, so he just let his right arm hang back down at his side awkwardly. Sam nearly laughed at his uncertainty, but he knew he’d definitely get a disappointed look from Steve if he did that, so he turned it into a snort.

“Wait, which time? There have been a few, one of them in the last week.”

“Yeah, all of them, I guess. I can’t remember the one in Vienna, that one’s a blank at the moment,” Barnes answered and Sam snorted again. He definitely remembered it; he still had the faint bruising under his jaw in the shape of the man’s now missing metal fingers. He saw Barnes’s eyes flick to Sam’s neck quickly, and then away, his lips parting as if he wanted to say something, but then deciding against it and looking towards the cockpit again.

“It coming back though,” he said quietly, “that memory, I think. I can sort of remember doing that, and a few other things.” He jerked his chin to Sam, but didn’t look at him. Sam could see him getting tenser, his posture straightening and his only fist clenching against the metal bench.

Sam knew this was messy territory, and from what Steve had briefly mentioned, it had been a taxing experience on the both of them with Stark in Siberia. Both Steve and Bucky’s uniforms were ripped and trashed, and they were both covered in god knows what. Barnes was tired, and from what Sam could tell from his looks towards Steve, he obviously felt very guilty, but not being quite sure what to do about it, he was doing his best to make amends through a very awkward forced apology to Sam.

Sam decided to brush it off, defusing the tension and giving Barnes a chance to back out of the conversation. But he also definitely did not want to let the whole thing slide just yet.

“Sure, sure,” Sam said in a yawn. He hopped up on the bench he was leaning, lying down against it and propping his arms up underneath his head as a pillow. “Just know that you owe me a new car, I’d only just paid that one off.”

He let his eyes fall closed and Bucky didn’t say anything, so Sam continued. “You know, the one? You ripped the steering wheel right out through the windshield?” No answer. “While me, Steve, and Nat were inside and you were apparently wave surfing on the roof?”

There was still no answer, so Sam turned his head to the side and cracked an eye open to look at Bucky. He was no longer clenching the bench with his hand, but was looking straight at Sam. He looked almost thoughtful as he stared, and then the faint ghost of a smile crossed his face.

“No I don’t think I remember that, but I hope it comes back to me, because the way I’m imagining it is pretty funny.” He sounded almost like a normal person then, so Sam threw his hands up in exasperation.

“Well it wasn’t funny,” Sam almost yelled, “I’d just had that car cleaned like the day before too!” Bucky shrugged unevenly and went back to looking slightly annoyed, but a bit more relaxed for someone soaked in old blood could look.

“Okay, well sorry for that one too, I guess.” He didn’t sound sorry.

“You know you’re really shitty at apologies?” Sam snapped back.

“Outta practice.” He replied.

“Are you two BFF’s playing nice?” Clint called from the cockpit and Sam threw an arm over his face, doing his best to block the rising sun out of his eyes.

“I’m always nice,” Sam muttered back quietly, knowing that Clint wouldn’t have been able to hear him.

Bucky heard though, and he snorted so loudly that every single person in the jet turned to stare at him.

Bucky only shrugged.


	2. Please don't hit me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team Cap get patched up in Wakanda, and Steve and Sam have a conversation.

“So she just let you go?” Sam tried to sound as if believed Steve, but he knew Natasha Romanoff well. The woman didn’t change her mind easily, especially about something as big as this. 

“She went to all that trouble to stand with Stark, against us, to just flip like that?” Sam motioned with his hands, showing his confusion. Steve just watched him with a concerned look, but then it dissipated, and he just shrugged. You had to learn to do that with Nat sometimes; Steve was good at it.

“She worked it out, so did Tony, but that’s exactly what Zemo wanted.” Steve admitted, crossing his arms over his chest. 

Steve’s cuts had been stitched and glued, and even apart from the miracle Wakandan technology, he was healing fast. The man looked tired though, his eyes had lost something of their familiar determination that Sam always associated him with. A hardness had replaced that look, but Steve seemed accepting of it, as if it he’d known that this had been coming for a long time. 

“I told Tony that I didn’t tell him the truth to protect him, and that’s true, but I also did it to protect us.” Steve spoke with a quiet confidence.

“I knew how Tony’d react, even in a controlled, safe environment. And I knew how I’d react, too, I know that I wouldn’t let anything happen to Bucky.” Steve turned to look at Sam. 

“Tony would have gone after him, and I couldn’t let that happen, Sam, I couldn’t-” Sam interrupted. 

“Man, I know, okay. I know what Stark is like, we all do,” he patted Steve on the arm. “Unfortunately this is just one of those un-winnable situations; no one comes out on top, we all sort of just lie at the bottom together on opposite sides.” Sam replied. He could see a freshly patched up Barnes come up silently behind Steve, his face hard, like he’d looked in Vienna. He’d obviously heard their conversation. Damn super-soldiers.

“That’s Hydra for you,” Steve jumped at the sound of Bucky’s voice, twisting slightly to turn towards his friend. Barnes mouth was pressed into a firm line, not making eye contact with either of them, but instead staring out across the foggy Wakandan jungle that they were surrounded by. 

“You know, for a bunch of shits hell-bent on order, they seem to try to get there through a whole lotta chaos.” Sam broke the silence, and Barnes finally turned to look at him, his expression dry.

“Yeah, I don’t know if you’re aware yet, but they’re kind of assholes.” He drawled. 

Steve gave a surprised laugh at that, his tense body sagging ever so slightly as if he’d been holding in a breath. Barnes relaxed a little too so Sam decided he still wasn’t finished pestering the guy.

“I like your little arm sock,” he motioned towards the small black covering on Bucky’s metal stump of an arm, “it’s cute. Does it keep you warm?” Steve gave an uncertain laugh and Bucky rolled his eyes, looking annoyed as he turned to leave, but not before he flipped Sam off with his one remaining hand.

When he was gone, Sam bumped his shoulder with Steve’s as they book looked out across the greenery. “This is gonna be fun, him and I are gonna be best buddies, and then you’ll be jealous.” Steve chuckled at that. 

“I might have overheard some of his apology on the way over here,” he admitted.

“I knew it!” Sam practically yelled it, and then lowered his voice. “You should also know that I’m not going easy on him, it’s going to be constant ridicule and and needling from me. I think it’ll really help with his recovery you know, push him out of his shell.” Steve snorted and bumped his shoulder with Sam’s, mirroring his earlier action. 

“Hey man, you’re the councillor, not me, and he seems to be handling it pretty well so far.”

“Yeah, until he snaps and throttles me one day.” Sam joked. Sort of.

“You know that I won’t ever let that happen, Sam,” Steve vowed, taking it too seriously than what Sam meant it for.

“Yeah, yeah, I know, ya big hero, we’ll be fine.” He said cheerfully. 

It seemed like Sam’s job sometimes, to cheer Steve up. He’d mentioned it once as a joke to Nat a couple of months ago, but she’d taken it seriously. 

“You really think that’s all you do?” Nat questioned. 

“I’m just kidding around, Romanoff, don’t worry about it,” he didn’t want to talk about this. 

“You’re his best friend, and that might not be the easiest job in the world, but I’m pretty confident in saying that you’re his favourite part about the 21st century, Wilson.” 

Sam hadn’t know what to say to that, he’d gotten a tight feeling in his chest and could only nod.

“Anyway, Clint and I have got a bet going-” Steve interrupted him with a groan and a exasperated hand to the forehead. 

“Do I want to know?” He ground out, and Sam ignored him, continuing as if he hadn’t said a thing.

“-about who will make him snap first-” another groan from Steve, “-ya see, Clint reckons it’ll be me, but I think that it’ll be him. Because while Barnes and I have personal history, Clint can just be really fucking annoying sometimes.” Steve laughed at that properly, and Sam felt a swell of pride. Damn right he was Captain America’s favourite thing about the 21st century. 

“I’m not sure if I’ve mentioned this before, Sam, but I honest to god don’t know what I’d do without you.” Steve’s voice was soft, and he had that mushy expression on his face he got sometimes.

“Yeah, I know.” He clapped Steve on the back and turned them both towards where he hoped there’d be food deeper inside the building. “And you should know that I take that as a blessing of mine and Clint’s bet,” Steve gave a snort. “And I also expect you to nurse me back to health once Barnes does snap, and smush my face into a pulp.”


	3. Bucky the culinary genius

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Clint decide to bother Bucky while he's cooking.

“Wait, you know Wakandan?” Sam’s voice was coloured with disbelief as he watched Barnes read the description on a carton of Wakandan milk. 

Barnes only shrugged, “yeah a bit.”

“How many languages _do_ you know?”

“A lot.”

“Roughly?”

“The main ones, and a few more.”

“I can ask what you did on the weekend in German,” Sam offered. 

“Please don’t.”

“Was hast-”

“I’ll throw you out the window.”

“Nice to see you guys getting along.” Clint’s dry voice broke the tension that Sam was purposely creating. He plonked himself down on the bar stool next to Sam, pouring himself a cup of fresh coffee which Barnes had just made. The ex-Hydra assassin was now cooking what looked to be an omelet, or possibly scrambled eggs, Sam honestly couldn’t tell. It smelt good though, maybe he’d try to steal some and see where that would end up.

“You know what, I could go for a burger right about now,” Clint sighed, inhaling deeply into his coffee.

It would have been hard, they were holed up in a massive high-tech facility somewhere in the middle of the Wakandan jungle. T’Challa had promised that no one would ever reach them, including Stark and the entire American government. Looking around at the tech and the people operating it, Sam didn’t doubt the new king for a second. 

“It’s like eight AM, man,” Sam replied. Barnes looked like he was trying to block them both out and just focus on his eggs, but it wasn’t going to work. 

“Do you know any Wakandan, Clint?” 

“It's called Xhosa, and uhh, a little,” Clint grimaced. “It was a while ago, I’m getting old you know.” Clint put on the angry old man persona, but his seemed amateur with Barnes in the room. 

“Not as old as this guy,” Sam jerked his thumb in Bucky’s direction who glared at him, flipping his egg violently in its pan with his one arm. Clint seemed taken back by it.

“My god, that look could just melt butter couldn’t it,” Clint chuckled, referring to Barnes. 

“By ‘melt butter’, do you mean completely incinerate it in a fiery glare of hate,” Sam muttered, taking another sip of his coffee. It was really good.

Barnes eyes flicked back between the two of them, his expression unreadable. Finally, he turned his gaze away from them and said very quietly.

“Well you won’t have to deal with me much longer, I’m going back under ice tomorrow.”

Sam couldn’t hide his shocked expression. He wasn’t sure what to say, so he just stared.

“Does Rogers know?” Clint asked just as quietly. Bucky seemed to be focusing on his eggs, but Sam could see his chest heaving ever so slightly. 

“I mentioned it to him this morning after talking to T’Challa and his sister last night. Steve’s trying to be supportive, I guess, but the guy’s about as subtle as the flag on his chest.” A faint smile flickered across Bucky’s downturned face, but it was gone in a second as he tipped his egg creation onto a plate.

“He try to talk you outta it?” Clint questioned. 

“In his own way. I know that he was tryna be supportive, ‘I want you to make your own decisions, Bucky’, and all that, but he looked like I’d sucker punched him.” Bucky sighed and started picking at his egg with a fork.

“Let me guess,” Sam finally found his voice. “He give you the big puppy eyes? The wobbly brow?”

“Yeah, something like that. He was trying to hide it, but it was the same when I told him I was being shipped out,” he replied, shovelling egg into his mouth. Sam drew back in surprise, and he could see Clint’s eyes narrow at the admission as well. 

“Wait, you remember that?” Sam queried him with no small amount of incredulity. 

Bucky snorted, scooping more egg into his mouth. “Yeah?” He chewed, watching the pair of them in annoyance until it became uncomfortable.

“I just didn’t know you were remembering specific stuff,” Sam attempted to cover his blunder by trying to pinch some of Bucky’s food. It was only half-hearted though, but Bucky still flicked his fork around in his hand too quick for Sam to see, and suddenly, its four prongs were very close to his outstretched hand. It would take less than the flex of Bucky’s wrist for Sam to suddenly find his hand impaled by a Vibranium fork. 

Clint laughed, “man, you guys are so entertaining.”

“What, did you think I thought Steve was just a familiar sort of guy who I thought I should trust for no apparent reason?” He snapped, waving the fork a little at Sam who held his hands up in surrender. 

“Well if it’s anything like the newspapers in the shoes memory, I thought that maybe you only remembered weird little ones that didn’t make any sense,” Sam argued. 

“It made perfect sense and it wasn’t weird!” He snapped with a tight voice. 

It was actually the first time Sam had ever seen Barnes angry before. His face pinched tightly and his eyes were hard; he looked as if he wanted to reach across the bench and smack Sam into next week. 

He could feel Clint tensing next to him, no doubt prepared to leap into action whenever he thought it was necessary. The guy probably had about six concealed weapons on him. But knowing Clint, him ‘jumping into action’, would probably be after Sam had already been snapped in half. 

Sam knew anger in PTSD patients though, and he tried to seem as non-threatening as possible, leaning back in his stool slightly and easing his posture so that Barnes could feel a little safer and in control of the situation.

“Sorry man,” he apologised, “I’ll shut up now.” Bucky’s face of anger dissolved into one of surprise. He looked awkwardly around the expansive kitchen eating area, as if waiting for someone to jump out and pull the wool over his eyes. 

“Wait a second, you’re apologising to me?” Bucky questioned with a note of confusion. He looked almost comical now, the guy had definitely never had any of the good men and women of Hydra apologise to him before. From the look on his face, he didn’t know how to respond. 

“Yeah, I was a dick, and I’m sorry.” Sam shrugged and poured himself another cup of coffee.

Sam sometimes forgot that Barnes was a victim, and that he often didn’t have control of his emotions. Little things that mattered to him, like remembering something about Steve in the 40s, was obviously very important. Sam made a mental note to remember that, as to save his own skin and a lot of drama in the future. 

Bucky was still staring at him.

“Quit looking at me,” Sam snapped. 

“I don’t know what to say.” Bucky snapped back and Sam threw has hands up in the air. 

Bucky suddenly seemed to straighten to attention. He picked up his plate of still steaming eggs and thrust them at Sam, who had no choice but to take the plate. 

“Here, have these,” he said gruffly. Before Sam could answer he spun purposefully and stomped out of the room, leaving Clint and Sam staring after him. 

“Huh,” was all Sam said. 

Clint picked up a fork and dug into the eggs, swallowing thoughtfully. 

“This taste like shit.”


	4. Bucky Barnes - goat herder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky's awake in Wankanda, herding goats and making friends. Team Cap come back to visit and potentially help save the world. 
> 
> Divergence from just before Infinity Wars.

“I got some goats, and the local village set me up on a little bit of land where I could help out.” Sam couldn’t help but notice that Bucky looked softer. Not physically, the man was still a tank, but the expression on his face was less battle-like. His eyes were more welcoming, and even his posture was less stained, more cocky, as if he’d suddenly grown into his body from a troublesome stretch of aggressive puberty.

“Goats?” Sam echoed and Bucky shrugged at the look. “The Wakandans gave you goats?”

“They weren’t mine, I just sorta helped out, did the heavy lifting and kept myself busy.” Bucky explained.

“This was after they gave you the new vibranium arm, I’m guessing?”

“Nah, only got that about a month ago when T’Challa needed me for more than just my goat herding abilities.” Bucky shrugged the metal arm, examining it with a thoughtful expression. He liked it; Sam could tell.

“Wait, so you herded Wakandan goats one-armed?” Sam laughed, “shit, the way I’m imagining that is hilarious. Moody, one-armed white man raising goats.” The last couple of words weren’t clear because Sam was sniggering so hard. Bucky didn’t look murderous at the fact he was being laughed at, instead, he seemed to be smiling too.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. But you should know that I named them all Wilson, after you.” Bucky said dryly.

It had been a long year since they’d seen each other last. Shuri had somehow managed to help Bucky by altering the programming that Hydra had put into his head, removing all sorts of trigger words and memories, effectively giving him his own choices back. His memories were still choppy, some had come back, others were foggy, and some seemed completely lost. Not all of them though, unfortunately.

Sam remembered Steve getting a call a few months ago from a gleeful Barnes, who had, to everyones complete shock, asked to speak to Sam immediately. Steve had handed Sam the phone with a look of confusion, and even slight worry. When Sam had hesitantly put the phone up to his ear, he could only hear the rough, chortling laughter of Bucky Barnes. It was such a strange noise that Steve went to snatch the phone back, earning a swat from Sam.

“What is that?” Wanda had come up behind Steve, clutching a mug of hot tea between her hands.

“I think,” Sam started gravely, “I think that he’s laughing.”

Steve gasped, and Sam half expected him to place a hand over his heart in shock.

“Well,” Wanda was laughing now too. “Did you ask him why?” She pointed to the phone which Sam was holding out between them all so that they could listen to the ruckus on the other end of the line.

“Barnes, man, are you okay?” The laugher was breathless now, slowly turning into a snigger.

“I just,” a heave, “I just remembered ripping that steering wheel right outta your hands,” he finally got out. Steve shook his head back and forth, but he was grinning too, his eyes crinkling affectionally.

“You’re an asshole,” Sam replied in a snap.

“You shoulda seen your face!” Bucky crowed in a slight Brooklyn accent.

“You do know you’re laughing about trying to kill us all, right?” Sam yelled.

“Well, we’re not dead, are we?” Nat called from the couch. Of course she’d heard it all, and Sam was certain he could read a smile in her voice.

But know they were all back in Wakanda together after T’Challa had contacted them a few days ago regarding an increase of alien activity across the planet. They’d flow in on the jet without delay; it was the first time they’d seen Bucky since he’d woken up. There had been somewhat frequent calls and messages between Steve and Bucky since Shuri had brought him off ice, but Steve said they were both busy, and didn’t want to put pressure on Barnes to reminisce about memories that he might not remember. Sam could tell he was trying to be careful, and even though their lives weren’t as stable as they used to be, Steve seemed happier, as if he were no longer weighed down.

When they’d landed T’Challa and the Dora Milaje had greeted them on the tarmac in front of the royal skyrise, and Sam could see Steve scanning the area for Barnes.

“Relax, Captain,” T’Challa had laughed soundlessly, “Your friend is with my sister. They were talking about testing the effects of her new subsonic explosives on Barnes’ new arm in her lab.” T’Challa had a grin stretched across his face; even Okoye to his left was trying to hide a sly smile. T’Challa motioned to the group to start walking towards the building.

“Oh? Buck said Shuri’d only just put it on a few weeks ago?” Steve had raised an eyebrow, obviously missing something funny.

“Yes, I tried to convince them to take the arm off before testing explosives on it, but Barnes said that removing it would take to too long,” T’Challa had shrugged and Steve’s steps faltered slightly before he grinned back.

“Why am I not surprised?”

The group had been shown to the floor where they would be staying, and while they were exploring the expansive accommodations, Bucky had seemed to appear out of nowhere, suddenly standing casually in the doorway. Nat had spun on the spot to face him, hand going to the gun at her hip quicker than Sam could respond. Bucky had just watched her calmly until she relaxed and gave him a wry smile.

“Welcome back to consciousness,” she said in that dry way of hers. He inclined his head at her comment, his dark hair longer and softer than the last time they’d all seen each other.

Steve had come around the corner then, his body wound tightly with tension. The second the pair laid eyes on each other they both moved forward automatically to embrace, like it wasn’t even a conscious thought. As they stood together for a moment, Sam could have sworn he saw the pressure lift out of Steve as he gripped Bucky with both arms.

“Are you okay? How do you feel?” He questioned as they pulled back to look at each other. Bucky still had his new metal hand fisted against Steve’s arm, his expression gentle.

“I’m fine,” he murmured, eyes crinkling with affection. “I like this.” He knocked his knuckles against Steve’s jaw where a very full beard now sat, trimmed neatly to help disguise the iconic face of Captain America underneath.

Steve laughed, rubbing his hand against the chestnut coloured hair, “Yeah, apparently they’re all the rage now, and it helps me in not being noticed.” He answered with a shrug and Barnes shook his head to hide a smile.

“Yeah, sure, Rogers, just keep telling yourself that,” he rolled his eyes and Sam took it as his opportunity to voice what they’d all been thinking.

“Don’t listen to Steve, he just keeps it now because he knows how pretty he looks,” Bucky grinned at that and Steve looked so damn happy.

“I can imagine him combing it each morning,” Bucky replied, his eye catching Sam’s in the mutual teasing of Steve Rogers.

T’Challa had held a meeting that night detailing what everyone knew about the increase in alien attacks recently. They all stood around the large oval meeting table, going through footage and pieces of information, exploring options and examining what it meant for them all.

“They’re looking for something, that much is obvious,” Bucky stated with crossed arms.

Shuri looked up at him, her expression thoughtful. “Bucky found this two weeks ago in Kenya,” she offered, tapping away at the tablet in her hand.

Sam was surprised about Bucky’s relationship with not just Shuri and T’Challa, but also with the other Wakandans. Sam had observed him interacting with various people effortlessly, and he seemed to be naturally included as if he’d been here the whole time. He’d even watched Okoye talking quietly to him before the meeting had officially started, and it appeared so normal for her to question him with interest about how the village he’d been staying at were fairing during the wet season. Shuri had piped in later, saying that the children were planning a group attack to finally get Bucky to join them for a swim in the lake. Bucky had only laughed softly, earning a smile from Okoye.

Sam had woken up this morning ready to explore, and he found himself wondering around the main airport hanger, watching the advanced Wakandan planes come and go with a child-like awe. Surprisingly, no one had questioned him being there, some had even greeted him and asked him about his wings. Bucky had found him there, dressed in plain Wakandan-styled clothes, his left arm uncovered and shining mutely under the lights.

“This place was really good for you, wasn’t it?” Sam questioned, motioning to the bustling Wakanda around them.

Bucky nodded slowly, his eyes crinkling in thoughtfulness. “Yeah, it was - is. I think this’ll be home for me now. T’Challa has offered me a permanent place here, whether that’s herding goats, or something a bit more suited to my other skill sets.” He shrugged.

“What do you want to do?” Sam asked, and Bucky paused to look at him.

“I think I’m just playing it by year at this point. T’Challa’s sent me out on a few local missions close to home, pretty easy stuff where I was able to lend a hand,” Bucky explained. “And I liked it, being out there, being part of a team who-”

“Who aren’t evil Nazi’s?” Sam offered.

“Yeah, that’s a pretty big plus.” He snorted.

“You ever think about coming with us?” Sam said quietly. He didn’t want to put any pressure on the guy, but he knew Steve had been itching to ask him the same thing ever since Bucky’d told them that he was running a few small ops for T’Challa.

Bucky sighed, “I want that, I really want that, but-” he stopped short, not knowing what to say. Sam could understand the feeling.

“It’s still early days, man,” he elbowed Bucky lightly, surprised about how easy the movement felt. “Wakanda will always be here for you, and since you’re stuck with Steve, that unfortunately also means that you’re stuck with me too.” Sam flashed him a big toothy grin that gave Bucky a sour expression.

“Good to know, I guess it’ll be Wakanda then,” he said dryly.

“Ouch, that hurts man.”

“Sorry.”

“Ooh look who’s growing up and learning how to apologise.”

“I take it back.”

“Too late, I already recorded it on my personal listening device.”

“You hang out with Romanoff too much.”

“You know, a lot of people have started telling me that, including Romanoff.” Sam said thoughtfully.

“I’d take it as a compliment,” Bucky admitted, scratching at the back of his neck casually.

“You give her a big apology too?” Sam raised an eyebrow. He was pretty sure that Bucky had tried to kill Nat more times than he’d tried to kill Sam, so he was curious about that relationship.

“Sort of,” he offered cryptically.

Sam rolled his eyes. “What about Steve then? You guys okay?” He’d seen them talking a lot over the past week, sometimes seriously, sometimes they were laughing. Two nights ago he and Nat had both been woken up by the sounds of them yelling at each other, but when they’d made their way out to the balcony the two men were arguing on, Barnes had stormed past with a look of thunder on his face. Steve’s face was pinched and his fists balled up tightly, and when he saw Nat and Sam standing in the doorway he shook his head.

“Sorry guys, we just had a little disagreement about how much we should involve the UN in what we know about the alien attacks,” he had said tiredly, rubbing at his head and turning to look out across the view.

When Sam had asked Steve about it the following night, he’d sighed and told him that they’d ‘agreed to disagree’ and that ultimately, T’Challa had the final say.

Barnes nodded and considered the question. “Good, I think. We’re working on it; he’s trying to not too put much pressure on me, so the other night when we argued was the first time that he actually treated me like I was normal instead of just tiptoeing around me,” he explained.

“Maybe he’s worried you’ll snap and throttle him?” Sam offered helpfully.

“If that did happen, it wouldn’t be the Winter Soldier, that’d be all me.” He admitted and Sam laughed. “He’s just so damn reckless, it drives me nuts, you shoulda seen him before the serum, getting into fights all the damn time that I had to pull him out of.” He rolled his eyes.

“Oh man, you guys are perfect for each other.”

Barnes and Sam began to make their way towards a neat little craft which sat off to the side of the hanger. It was partly in pieces, obviously in the middle of repairs. It was the same colour as Bucky’s arm.

“Shuri said I could have because we ‘matched’”, he lifted his metal arm up to demonstrate. “I’ve been trying to work on it for a little while, just using up what’s left of pieces the engineers don’t need.” Bucky admitted. Sam circled around it, admiring its polished exterior, impressed by the sheer number of weapons wielded to its body and wings. He wasn't sure how the tiny jet could ever lift on the ground with that many guns and rocket launchers. He gave Barnes a look with a single, raised eyebrow.

Bucky only shrugged.

“What did you expect? It shouldn’t be news to you that I really like guns.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I left this one with a bit of an open finish. I may possibly do a couple more fics centring around this lot though :)  
> Found this chapter pretty tricky so I would love some constructive criticism!


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